


Bread and Circuses

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [6]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Cooking, Developing Friendships, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gen, Rosh HaShana | Jewish New Year, Sibling Bonding, Yom Kippur | Atonement Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: With the approach of Rosh Hoshanah and Yom Kippur, Carolina struggles with the absence of family. Thankfully she has people around her, including Church, who gets introduced to the emotional whiplash that are Disney movies.





	Bread and Circuses

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to Carolina the Teenage Witch AU! Winter sort of fell on me like a ton of bricks and I know I owe people replies, but I hope to be back to a regular schedule now!
> 
> Massive thanks to Kessa for helping me out with the Jewish holidays, Aryashi for plotting out the rest of the story, and Zalia coming up with the title for the Honorable Mention.

“You haven't seen The Lion King?”  
  
“No, Caboose.”  
  
“Or Aladdin?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Or--”  
  
Church sighs. He pinches at the bridge of his nose and says, “Caboose, I’m going to stop you right there. The answer is always going to be no.”

Caboose stares, clearly confused that someone could have gone their whole life without watching a single Disney movie.

Carolina, swallowing a bite of congealed school pizza, decides not to mention that she hasn’t seen any of the movies either. It might break Caboose’s brain. Besides, it’s funny to watch Church’s exasperation and Caboose’s confusion.

Tucker leans forward. “Come on, Church, stop messing with Caboose. There’s no way you’ve avoided Disney movies unless you’re Amish or something.” He pauses. “Church, are you Amish?”

Church rolls his eyes. “Would you guys stop asking me this stuff if I said yes?”

Tucker grins. “No, we'd just ask you different stuff. Like, are Amish girls hot? I bet they’re hot, even without makeup. And there’s nothing to do without TV, so they’re probably bored and--”  
  
Church gets a look on his face. He’s so much more expressive than her father, Carolina thinks, not for the first time. Every emotion plays across his features. Right now he’s wearing his ‘daydreaming about transforming Caboose and Tucker into frogs' expression. “No, Tucker,” he growls. “I’m not Amish.”

“Church! We should do a marathon!” Caboose says, brightening. “You could come over this weekend, and Tucker will bring popcorn, and we could watch all the movies!”

“Why do I have to bring popcorn? Get your own,” Tucker complains.

“Maybe not _all_ the movies, Caboose,” Wash says. “There’s a lot of them, especially if you’re going old-school and starting with Snow White.” Carolina can’t hide her surprise, and he grins at her. “Two sisters, remember? Danielle’s mission is to watch every Disney movie.”

Caboose’s smile widens. He bounces a little on the bench, and it groans a little at the gesture. “Oh, do you guys want to come too? We could have a party!”

A voice calls over from the next table. “Who’s throwing a party?”

“Not your kind of party, North,” Wash says.

“Hey, I like all parties,” North says, sounding a little offended.

Niner raises both eyebrows and grins. “I didn’t know you were a big Disney fan.”

Carolina turns in time to catch North grimace before he gets control of his face. “Uh….”  

“You can come too, North!” Caboose says cheerfully. “We’re showing Church some Disney movies since he’s Amish and--” He drops his voice to a carrying whisper. “--I don’t know what that is, but I think it means no movies. He hasn’t seen The Lion King.”

North opens his mouth, looks at Caboose’s beaming face, and then shuts it, clearly changing his mind on what he was about to say. “You know what, Caboose, I just remembered, I’m busy this weekend.”

Caboose’s face falls.

“Come on, North,” Wash says. “Free food.”

“Yeah, North, free food,” York echoes, grinning. He glances towards Carolina’s table. “Uh, so who’s going to be at the party--”

The bell rings for the end of lunch. Amid the clatter of everyone picking up their trays, Carolina says to Caboose, “Sorry, I’m busy this weekend. But you guys have fun.”

“Busy with what?” Niner asks as the group gets into the hallway. “There’s no track meet, right?”

“No, but it’s Rosh Hashanah this week.” Carolina’s met with a series of blank faces. She sighs. After an internal debate over how much of an explanation she feels up to giving in the time it takes to get their next class, she settles on a simple, “Jewish holiday.”

“Oh, gosh, I didn’t know it was a holiday!” Caboose says. “Church, we’ll do the movies another weekend, so you and Carolina can--”

“I’m not celebrating,” Church says tersely. Then he grimaces and glances quickly at Carolina before he mumbles, “It’s, uh, not something I do.”

Carolina doesn’t say anything. She invited him to the shul once, knowing that her father attended service always on the High Holidays and then whenever he wasn’t distracted by work, but Church said dryly, “Carolina, I’ve existed for a week. I’ll think about religion later,” and she left it at that. Still, she feels a pang. It will be her first Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur without her parents.   

Caboose blinks. Then he smiles. “So you can do the movies!”  

Church sighs. “Sure, Caboose. We’ll do the movies.”

Behind them, Niner whispers, “North, I’ll bet you five bucks Church cries during The Lion King.”

 

* * *

 

“So, uh,” Church says awkwardly, hovering beside her locker as Carolina puts her books into her bag. “I’ll see you after practice? Or are you skipping it and going straight to the brownstone?”

Carolina squints at him. It’s a weird question. He knows as well as she does that Rosh Hashanah doesn’t start until sundown, which isn’t until almost seven o’clock. There’s plenty of time for practice without being late for the candle-lighting. Even if her parents aren’t there, she still wants to follow tradition. Her throat tightens, remembering her mom’s warm voice reciting the blessings with her. “Practice until 6.”

“Right. Yeah. And, uh,” he says, and now Carolina understands his weirdness, because he licks his lips and says in a nervous rush, “Do you think you-know-who will reach out?”

Carolina raises an eyebrow. “You-know-who? You can be more specific. You won’t summon him by accident.” She’s studied far enough into her spellbook to know that witches can summon people, but it takes calling their name three times and really wishing it.

Church grimaces, as though horrified at the very idea, and then looks annoyed. “Fine. Do you think Leonard will want to talk to you?”

His voice changes at the name, turns bitter, and she wishes she hadn’t teased him and just answered the question. “I don’t know,” she says, trying to keep her own voice under control. Judging by Church’s expression, she doesn’t manage it. No one’s heard from her father since he confirmed Church’s fake identity with Grey. “I mean, it’s tradition, but.... I don’t know.”

Church clearly can’t decide if he’s annoyed at her father for Carolina’s sake or relieved that her father won’t magically appear in one of the photos and paintings in the brownstone. He grimaces again. “Okay. Well, uh, see you after practice.”  

 

* * *

 

Practice isn’t quite a disaster, but Carolina’s distracted the entire time. She usually feels good after running, but instead she still feels restless when Sarge blows the whistle and calls it a night. It’s only the promise of the candle-lighting that keeps her from staying later and running more laps.

“I’m back,” she calls, opening the front door to the brownstone, and then wrinkles her nose. It takes her a second to identify the smell: smoke and burned food. But that doesn’t make sense. It’s Grey’s night for dinner, and she doesn’t cook, just magics the meal onto their plates.  

Curious, she wanders into the kitchen and stops short, blinking.

Practice wasn’t a disaster, but the kitchen certainly is one. Carolina spares a puzzled glance towards the covered plates already on the table before she focuses on the smoke being redirected out the open window by a giant magical fan and Church as he dumps something into the trash can and mutters under his breath.   

“Oh, hello, Carolina!” Grey says cheerfully, smiling. Next to her, Church freezes, and though he’s not looking in Carolina’s direction, she can see the flush creep down the back of his neck. “You’re just in time to offer James some advice.”

“I don’t need advice,” Church snaps. He turns, still flushed, and scowls at the oven. He points an accusing finger. “Your oven must be defective. I followed the instructions exactly, it’s simple chemistry, and _he’s_ done it hundreds of times, but--”

“I used it last week to make cornbread,” Kimball says. When Carolina glances at her, she can’t read Kimball’s expression at all. “It’s fine.”

“What were you trying to make?” Carolina asks, but now that the smoke is dissipating, more familiar smells hit her. She takes a deep breath. She can smell brisket and tzimmes, and even the burned scent is familiar like-- “You baked challah?”  

“He tried!” Grey says as Church avoids everyone’s eyes. “I offered to whip up a traditional meal, but James seemed to think you'd prefer things the mortal way.” She giggles. “Of course, that was before he realized how long bread takes to rise. His hurry up baking spell seems to have gone rather poorly.”

Carolina opens her mouth, and then closes it. She doesn’t know what to say.  Her eyes prickle, not from the still-lingering smoke, but at the unexpected gesture. For a second, she misses her parents a little less, enough that she manages a smile and means it. “Thanks, Church.”  

Church’s face gets even redder. He looks embarrassed and slightly sulky, apparently still upset over the burned challah. He turns back to the stove-top, scowling. “Yeah, well. The chicken’s almost ready. Didn’t screw that one up. _Shanah tovah um’tukah_ a little early, I guess.”  He stutters a little over the greeting that he tosses over his shoulder, like the words are strange in his mouth.

“ _L’shanah tovah tikateivu v’teichateimu_ , Church,” Carolina says, meaning every word.

He jerks around, surprise widening his eyes, before he laughs, a startled snort. The embarrassment and sulky look is replaced by a lopsided grin. Wryly, he says, “Nice that you think I’m in the Book of Life. I doubt Leonard agrees.”

Carolina would argue that of course he is, but she’s not going to press it.

From the table, Kimball says quietly, “He explained that all the women in the house generally light the candles. Do you want us to do that?”

“Oh,” Carolina says, caught off-guard again. Would it be better or worse to coach them through the blessing, to hear their voices instead of her mom’s? After a second she smiles and shakes her head. “I-- No, that’s okay.”

Her voice wobbles a little as she lights the candle and recites the blessing, but she’s not as lonely as she would have been, with Church, Grey, and Kimball standing witness. When she finishes the kiddush as well, she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know where her mom is, if she’s still on the island or somewhere else where people need help. Maybe she’s already said the blessing, or maybe she’s still an hour away from sundown. It still helps to know that somewhere in the world she’s saying these same words, and probably missing Carolina just as much.

Carolina eats, distracted by the food in front of her. Her father always made the Rosh Hashanah meals, since her mom doesn’t cook. It’s the same traditional meal he always does. The first night consists of brisket, pomegranate and honey glazed chicken, balsamic apple date challah, potato kugel, and a dessert of honey cake. One of her first memories is ignoring her mom’s suggestion to eat a little less kugel and then spending the rest of the night with an unregretted stomach ache.

Church probably used the same recipes, but the food doesn’t taste the same. The honey glaze is slightly sweeter, the brisket a little overcooked, the kugel heavy on the garlic powder, and the challah deemed a lost cause and dumped in the trash. He gets the honey cake right, though. It’s only as she finishes her slice of honey cake that she realizes how quiet Grey and Kimball have been.

She glances at them just in time to see Kimball studying Church with a creased forehead, her fingers tugging absently at her ear. When Kimball notices her watching, she grimaces faintly and then smiles. Her hand drops from her ear. She gestures at everyone’s empty plates. “The library keeps a few cookbooks in circulation. Maybe we should try to do some mortal cooking more often.”

Church snorts, helping himself to another slice of cake. “Yeah, you do that. I’ll stick to cooking for holy days. Otherwise takeout is fine.”

“Do you want some help tomorrow?” Carolina asks. Her father never let her help, except to set the various timers, but the burned challah suggests that Church might need a second pair of hands. He blinks in surprise at her, and then narrows his eyes when she adds, smiling, “Your sweet tooth was showing with the chicken.”

“What are you talking about? It tasted good.” He glances at Kimball and Grey in appeal, and then, realizing what he’s done, scowls and jabs his fork into his cake.  

“It was good,” she assures him. “Just a little heavy on the honey.”

He bristles. “Why should I listen to you? You have the opposite of a sweet tooth--” He huffs, pausing to eat more of his cake. Then he mutters, “If you’re so picky, you can make the honey glaze tomorrow.”  

“Deal,” Carolina says.

 

* * *

 

Wash catches up with her as she heads for the bus that Friday. He grins. “I know you’re can’t come tonight, but we’re all placing bets on if Church cries. Want in? People are betting a meal at the Slicery.”

“I’ll pass,” Carolina says, swallowing down a laugh. “Sounds like a lose-lose for me. If I lose I have to pay for other people’s dinner. If I win, I have to eat at the Slicery.” As Wash snorts, she adds, “You guys have fun.”   

“You too.” Wash makes a face. “I mean, happy holiday? Happy Rosh Hashanah? Uh. What’s the right thing to say? I tried asking Church what kind of holiday it was, but he told me there was a thing called a library. And of course the only book on Jewish holidays was checked out.” He rolls his eyes, though he’s still smiling. “Your brother’s kind of annoying.”

Carolina laughs. She can imagine Church looking down his nose at Wash and being obnoxiously unhelpful, just to mess with Wash. “Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish new year. You could try saying _L'Shana Tova_.”

Wash repeats it carefully. “ _L’Shana Tova_.” Then he staggers sideways, yelping in surprise as Niner barrels into him, slinging an arm around his neck.

“Hey, Carolina,” she says with a grin. “Wash tell you about the betting pool?”

Carolina holds up her hands and laughs. “Sorry. Family solidarity. Besides, knowing you, you’ve rigged it. What sad movies are you showing him?”

Niner puts on a mock-offended face. “Excuse me, I don’t need to cheat. Disney movies always have sad parts. It’s a requirement. I just think Church looks like a crier.”

Carolina bites back another laugh. Church is high-strung. She sometimes wonders if her father was like that as a teenager, or if it’s just one more example of Church being different. At the thought of her father, some of her amusement fades. He still hasn’t called. She shrugs.

“There’s one in every family,” Wash says. He rolls his eyes as Niner says, “Oh yeah? I’ve never seen Danielle or Lizzie cry, so I guess that leaves you.”

“Says the only child,” Carolina says.

It’s only after she says it and Wash laughs at Niner’s expression that she realizes how easily she’s fallen into the habit of talking about Church as her flesh and blood brother. Then she thinks of the surprise Rosh Hashanah dinner, the closest thing to a family meal she’s had since Grey and Kimball showed up on the island.

“Carolina?” Judging by Wash’s tone, it’s not the first time he’s said her name. He’s frowning a little.

She forces a smile. “I should catch my bus.”  

“We’ll let you know if he cries!” Niner calls after her.

 

* * *

 

“Church left me the recipes,” Kimball says, wiping a hand on a dish towel and checking the timer on the sfratti before she joins Carolina and Grey at the table. “We’ll see how it goes. I can make soups on my own, but this stuff was a bit more complicated than throwing stuff into a crock-pot.”

“We could have used a spell,” Grey says. Either she’s used a cleaning spell on herself or she hasn’t helped in the kitchen at all, because her dress is spotless. “It would probably taste better. No offense, Vanessa.”

Except for the slight tension around her mouth, Kimball ignores Grey’s words. She nods towards the table. The last night’s meal is pomegranate brisket with cranberry succotash, sweet and sour fish, apples and honey punch, sfratti, and a more successful attempt at the apple date challah. “Let’s see how it tastes.”

It tastes good, although not like Carolina’s father’s cooking either. It’s another strangely quiet meal, and Carolina pretends not to notice Grey and Kimball exchanging looks whenever they don’t think she’s paying attention.

They’re almost finished with the meal when Kimball says, “I’m sorry your dad didn’t call, Carolina.”

Carolina’s appetite vanishes. She fiddles with a spoonful of succotash. She resists the urge to glance towards the nearest portrait, like Kimball mentioning him will get his attention. She knows it doesn’t work like that. “Yeah.” She doesn’t say anything else.

Grey hums thoughtfully. “Leonard’s single-minded focus on a project is an admirable trait in a scientist, but a less preferable one in a father, isn’t it? He’s probably distracted by an experiment. I could reach out and remind him--”

“Don’t,” Carolina snaps. Her head aches, tension radiating through her jaw, and she realizes she’s grinding her teeth. She blows out a harsh breath, forces the tension out of her shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to remind him. Just….” She flounders. It’s hard to think with all the emotion twisting her stomach. “Thanks, but no thanks, okay?”

“Okay,” Kimball says, and then repeats, firmly, “ _Okay,_ ” when Grey looks ready to object.

Grey hesitates, but nods. “If you’re absolutely certain, Carolina.”

Carolina’s stomach roils. She tries to take another bite of food, but now it tastes like sawdust. So much for sweetness to encourage a sweet new year, she thinks, and fights against a bitter laugh. She drops her fork and stands up. That unhappy restlessness is nipping at her heels again. “I’m going for a run.”

“A run?” Kimball’s brow furrows. A worried note creeps into her voice. “Carolina, it’s dark, maybe--”

Carolina ignores her. She’s out the door as fast as she fled on her birthday, only this time she escapes the brownstone onto a street dimly lit by moonlight. She runs and keeps running, until the roar of wind and her own harsh breaths almost drown out her thoughts.  Her thoughts still taunt her. She’s furious with her father and furious with the Council and their stupid rules. Each step is another remembered lie or misdeed she’s committed because of her magic. Prayer and charity are only two out of three actions she must commit during the Days of Awe. Repentance is the one she stumbles on, like a too-tall hurdle she can’t clear.

She can regret her actions all she likes -- the constant lies to Wash and Niner, the accidental cheating during that first track meet -- but she can’t apologize and she can’t change her actions. If she tells them the truth, she’ll only put them all in danger. She can’t repent.

Carolina always misses her mom, but now she’s almost sick with it. She wants to hear her mom’s voice, needs one of her rough, too-tight hugs. Her mom would happily dive into the Talmud with her to find some way to repent without putting Carolina’s classmates and friends in danger. Her mom’s always liked arguing.  

She turns back in the direction of the brownstone. She’s trying to keep people safe, and that means lying to them. She’s learning how to use her magic so she won’t cheat or misuse it again. That has to be enough for the moment, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

When she gets back, Kimball’s waiting for her. She tenses, expecting a speech about not running out, but Kimball just says mildly, “Grey was called in for an emergency shift, but there’s still the punch and dessert if you want.”

“Yeah, okay,” Carolina says. She’s almost to the kitchen when Kimball adds, “And save some for James.”

 

* * *

 

Carolina’s frowning at her spellbook the next morning when the front door opens. She looks up, expecting Church, and then hastily stuffs her book under a cushion as Niner bounds inside.

“He cried at all three movies,” Niner announces, grinning from ear to ear. “York and CT owe everyone dinner at the Slicery.”

Church storms in after her, bristling with indignation and scowling. “I didn’t cry!” At least that’s what Carolina thinks he says. The words are screeched at such a high pitch that she’s surprised the protest doesn’t shatter glass.

Niner just laughs. “See you guys on Monday.”

“I didn’t cry,” Church says, still high-pitched but understandable now. He glares after Niner as she leaves, and then refocuses his offended look at Carolina. “I might have been moved once or twice by an emotional scene, but there were no tears. Your friends are liars.”

“Uh huh.”

Church narrows his eyes at her skeptical tone. “I’d like to see you watch Dumbo without feeling anything.” He grimaces and waves aside the idea. “Never mind, don’t watch that one. All Caboose remembered about that was one was that it involved a circus. It was bad. And it made Caboose cry.”

“Aw, poor Caboose,” Carolina says.

Church makes another face, like he feels slightly bad too and is annoyed about it, and then shrugs. “The other movies were fine. The Lion King was just Hamlet with lions and a happier ending. Robin Hood had some good songs.” He pulls the half-hidden spellbook out from under the cushion. “What are you working on?”    

“Oh, food spells,” Carolina says. She smiles at him. “I loved the home-cooked dinner, but I figure I should start helping too, and with track I probably don’t have time to do it the mortal way. Plus it seems like a good way to work on my control, see if I can get the food to taste right.” And she wants to work her way up to large food donations for her mom’s rescue work, she thinks privately, and in a way that gets around that stupid ‘no charitable magic’ rule.

Church’s eyes light up at the mention of food. “That’s a good point. We should both work on food spells.”

Carolina feels her smile widen into a grin. “Let me guess. I do the dinner, you’ll handle desserts.”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s finish the leftover sfratti first,” Kimball says, coming into the living room with a cookie plate.  

Church helps himself to a handful. Mrs. Caboose must’ve fed him breakfast, but he eats like he’s starving. It seems like only a few seconds before he’s eaten half of the cookies, and he’s still reaching for more when Carolina finally reaches out and snags one for herself.

Kimball watches him eat, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Teenagers,” she mutters, so quietly that it’s almost to herself. Then she glances between Carolina and Church. “Should I get out honey apple punch too?”

Church swallows. “Yeah, thanks.” He leans over, looking at the spellbook. “Food spells are actually pretty interesting, because it’s mostly will-based, but you still need a memory and having tasted the food before.” He pauses and grins. “Which means I should try some more desserts.”

Carolina shakes her head. “Can witches get heart attacks?”

Church snorts. “Please, the only thing that can kill a witch is a volcano or another witch.”

“So no trips to Hawaii,” Carolina says, and he laughs.

“Probably a good idea.”

 

* * *

 

The Kol Nidrei has always been Carolina’s favorite part of Yom Kippur. The sense of community and the weight of history in the ritual never fail to move her. How many people have said these same words? How many desperate vows have been made and broken over the centuries?  

She’ll join their ranks, she knows. Twenty-three months might as well be forever. Can she handle her birthday, her parents’ birthdays, her everyday life, without her parents? Desperation already gnaws at her stomach. What promise or bargain will she make to get them back early?

She’s still wondering about it when the service is over, so distracted that she almost misses Church waiting for her outside. She stops, blinking as people split and stream around them, lightly jostling her. “Uh, hi.”

Church jams his hands in his coat pockets, looking awkward, like he did trying to cook the first Rosh Hashanah dinner. His cheeks are red, but that might be from the wind that’s whipping at both their faces and tugging at Carolina’s hair. “Hey. Man, it’s windy and cold as crap,” he mutters.

Carolina raises an eyebrow. “You think this is cold? Wait until December.”

Church grimaces and then says hopefully, “Think Kimball and Grey would move to Hawaii?”

“I thought we were avoiding Hawaii.”

He shrugs. “Eh, as long as we avoid the volcanoes, we’re fine.”

More people are coming out of the shul now, so Carolina starts walking.

Church falls into step beside her. He bumps shoulders with her, probably shoved by the crowd, but then he stays, his body warm even through both their coats. “It’s cold,” he repeats again when she glances at him, but there’s a slightly defensive note to his voice and his face gets redder beneath the wind-burn.

“Right,” Carolina says. The gnawing feeling eases, just a little.

Tonight could be worse. She could be walking back to the brownstone alone, without Church. She could be returning to the brownstone to guardians who don’t care about her happiness like Grey and Kimball do. She could be without friends like Wash, who hunts for a library book to try and learn about her holidays, or Niner, who invites her in on jokes and bets. She could be a lot lonelier.   

She doesn’t say that out loud, of course. The Church family doesn’t talk about their feelings like that. Instead she nudges him with an elbow and says, “Forget about food spells. You need to start looking for heat spells. I’m not being your personal heater the entire winter.”

Church sputters. “Uh, see if I make you dinner the mortal way again!”

“Yeah, I’ll miss that burned challah bread,” Carolina says, sighing, just to make him sputter some more. Then she nudges him again and says, smiling, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to make that challah bread again. No hurry up spell this time.” He frowns. “It’s just basic chemistry, there’s no way I can screw it up twice….”  

“You’d think,” she agrees, and laughs when he makes a face.

**Author's Note:**

> **Honorable Mention**
> 
> 1x18 - Banding Together - Listen, rhyming at a moment’s notice is hard. We don’t blame Carolina for carrying a rhyming dictionary around while she works on spells. We do blame her for panicking when Tucker asks if she’s writing poetry or secretly in a band. Then again, if she’d been a better liar, we wouldn’t have known the wonder that is Carolina’s terrible singing voice and enjoyed everyone else’s suffering. We just wish we’d seen more of Carolina, Caboose, Tucker, and Niner’s half-assed band.


End file.
